
Class _/^6La^Is£/ 

Book ■M'-£^:lS 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



CAIN 

AND OTHER POEMS 



BY 

JAMES U. SNYDER. 



MEXICO, MISSOURI, 

Missouri Printing and Publishing Company, 

1908, 



I Jwc Urjjies Hi^an^j j i n f^ ""K 

{ r7;B i 8 i y08 j )H o ^ '-^ 



Copyright, 1908, 
by 
James U. Snyder. 



TO MY MOTHER, WHOSE LOVE 
HAS MEANT LIFE TO ME SINCE 
childhood; AND TO MY FATHER 
WHOSE 8YJHPATHY HAS MEANT 
STRENGTH, THIS LITTLE TRIB- 
UTE OF AFFECTION IS TENDER- 
LY DEDICATED. 



PRErACE.. 

This little book is thrust upon the public, without excuse 
or apology. Some of its contents have already found their 
way into print and have elicited words of praise from indul- 
gent friends of the author, who have been kind enough to ex- 
press their approval : but whether such approval sprang from 
common courtesy or deep sincerety, I know not. However, 
I trust that the cordial reception given the individual poems 
will not now be withheld from this collection. 

I cannot but feel that whatever has thrilled me, may, 
perhaps, thrill others. If I have caught a single bar of ra- 
diance from the great firmament of song, and flashed it upon 
a single soul that had not seen it before, my efforts have not 
been in vain. One heart-string made to vibrate with a new 
thrill, one life made to see a brighter hope, or one soul made 
to hear the voice crying from the heights, is better than an 
eternity of praise. 

These songs are sung in "varying keys". Some may 
touch the chord of joyousness and hope ; others may be fraught 
with the wail of the minor, — but what soul is there without 
its minor? My sincerest hope is that some human **harp of 
heart" may be constrained to tremble into sympathetic har- 
many with my own, and thus transmit the melody, eliminat- 
ing whatever discords may exist, until it swells into perfect 
song in the heart of the reader. Trusting that something 
may be found that is worthy and nothing that is disappoint- 
ing, I commend these simple poems to your kind indulgence 
and sympathetic consideration. 

James U. Snyder. 



CONTENTS. 

Cain. 

A Flute Dream. 

One Word. 

Thy Star. 

Has any Noble Deed been Wrought? 

Strength out of Weakness. 

Seclusion. 

When the Wild Crab Apples Blow. 

Song of Autumn. 

Waving Goldenrod. 

Token of First Love. 

To a Rosebud. 

Sing to Me. 

Reverie. 

Enigma. 

Speak to me, Love. 

To a Harp. 

A Memory. 

Rosalie. 

One Night. 

I Knew Not Her Name. 

A Faded Violet. 

Smile. 

In Tune. 

Now I Lay Me. 

Declining Year. 

Two Mysteries. 

The Tempest. 

The Sleeping Guards. 

Contrition— A Prayer. 



The Guiding Star. 

Dawn. 

Unselfishness. 

John Hay. 

Endure it All. 

Brush the Cobwebs. 

A Palace. 

Ignis Fatuus. 

The Life of Art. 

A Sad Old Man. 

To the Last Mosquito. 

The Seamstress and the Dreamer. 

SONNETS. 



To 

The Pyramid Indestructible. 

Return. 

Am I a Part? 

A Whisper Through the Gloom. 

Aspiration. 

Home. 

The Midnight Song. 



CAIN. 



A THOUSAND iridescent hues broke through 
J^\ The East's half-open door and kissed the face 
^-^ Of new-boi-n Earth until it smiled. They burst 

Into a thousand spangled bars that crept 

And filtered through the leaves, all golden-meshed, 

Flecking the sward with alternating light 

And shadow; danced upon the brook and threw 

Defiantly a proud reflection back 

That met the parent glow mid air. They touched 

A thousand bird-throats into living song, 

And woke the unwieldy things that crawl and creep, — 

All jubilant and happy in the light 

Of God's own manifest benignity, — 

For now it seemed, the utter pain and woe 

Of that first fall had vanished from the earth, 

And wrath divine had been forgotten till 

Man stood erect and reconciled to God. 

The songs of late-lost Eden swelled again 

And somewhat stilled regret of banishment. 

No bitterness remained for judgment passed 

Against original sin and broken faith; 

Since every shrub was as a burning bush 

Proclaiming to the world the will of God. 



CAIN 



II. 



The sons of Adam rose and faced the East, 
And drank its gorgeous splendor, till at last 
The god within them was awake and cried; 
"The Lord is great and greatly to be praised!" 
Thence each one to his wonted task repaired, 
Cain, to his fields, now rich in harvest's prime, 
And Abel to the tending of his flocks. 

III. 

The morning passed, and Cain was out alone 

Gathering the first-fruits, finest of the land. 

As offerings to the God who blessed his toil. 

"Surely," he said, "this sheaf with golden ears. 

These melons sv/eetened by the breath of heaven, 

This fruit so delicate in green and gold 

Will not be spurned by Him who gave them growth." 

So he, with all his treasure-trove heaped high 

Upon the sacrificial altar, bared 

His head, with face made radiant by the glow 

Of fond anticipation, prayed that he 

And his might be acceptable to God. 



AND OTHER POEMS i^ 

IV. 

But strange it seems to mortals weak and blmd, 

The gift was spurned, the giver turned away! 

Eden itself was lost with better grace, 

Than when poor Cain, rejected and unblest, 

Stood disappointed by his sacrifice. 

All labor seemed in vain. If not the first 

Fruit of the land, and guerdon of his toil 

Be worthy signs of service, why what more? 

How inscrutable are thy ways, Lord, 

To those who only know thee from afar! 

How plain thy purposes, in life and death, 

When weaklings lay their trembling hearts to thine, 

And see their duty through the eyes of God! 



14 CAIN 

V. 

And Abel also, with his heart attuned 

To vibrate with the Infinite, brought forth 

The firstlings of his flock, and fat thereof. 

His altar builded high of unhewn stones, 

A token of divine fidelity, 

Breathed holy incense and the fat of rams. 

The smoke ascending pleased the eye of Him 

Who all-beholding sees not acts alone. 

But e'en the inmost motives whence they spring. 

In ways unknown, but unmistakable. 

Divine approval settled on the head 

Of Abel; and his face with holy zeal 

Shone with a halo, dazzling as the sun. 

VI. 

The ceremonies ending, there they stood; 
The one triumphant in the consciousness 
Of sacrifice acceptable, His mien 
Bespoke the glory of a deed well done. 
The other, disappointed, woe-begone, 
Stood as a living monument of one 
Who did his best, and yet somehow, had failed. 
Here in Creation's dawn, when men were tried 
In many a burning crucible, and weighed 
In balances uncertain, grew the truth 
That ruled for ages v/ithout utterance: 
* 'Two men shall be at labor in the field, 
The one be taken, and the other left." 



AND OTHER POEMS 



VII. 



Cain was wroth. Hatred rankled in his heart 

And ruled his actions. Every good intent 

That prompted him to sacrifice, was quenched, 

And all his being shook with murderous rage. 

He met with Abel in the field alone. 

Who greeted him with brotherly esteem : 

* 'Peace be to thee, my brother, peace to thee," 

And as a gentle zephyr feeds the flame, 

So Abel's words of kindness fed Cain's wrath. 

And there beneath a perfect eastern sky, 

When all the universe seemed lost in peace, 

A living clod, with God's own image stamped, 

And as an image only— horrid scene — 

Stood with his brother's blood upon his hands! 

VIII. 

Somewhere from out the regions of the air 
But yet so near and palpable it seemed, 
That Cain was startled at the very sound, 
A voice spake, stern, but sweet and tender still: 
** Where is thy brother?" All the memories 
Of sweet companionship with him who lay 
Unburied, bleeding on the parching sands, 
Possessed his brain, now conscious of its guilt, 
And touched his voice and made it tremulous. 
Yet nerved by that same power behind the deed, 
He answered, unconcerned as he might: 
*'I know not. Am I my brother's keeper?" 



z6 CAIN 



IX. 



Cain! Thou didst propound a query there, 
That seemed absurd and foolish when 'twas said, 
For only one thou hadst, besides thyself 
To be the guardian of. How easy then 
For comradship and love to rule you both! 
Still that old question comes with doubled force 
Down through the ages; and in every soul 
The answer must abide, the eternal yea. 
And with the roll of aeons how increased 
Are its severe demands of fulfillment! 
For where thou hadst but one in love to keep 
We Cains today must keep our multitudes! 



Again the Silence spoke: "Thy brother's blood 
Calleth to thee from out the ground, O Cain! 
No longer shall the earth yield her increase 
To recompense thy toil ; and thou shalt be 
A wanderer and a vagabond, henceforth." 
And thus for sin, his Eden lost again, 
He set his face towards the outer world, 
And bore with him a double mark of guilt. 
The one upon his conscience so that he 
Might ne'er forget his sin of jealousy; 
The other stamped by God upon his face 
To brand him as a murderer, so that men 
Might look upon his countenance and say: 
"Behold the mark of God, so harm him not." 



AND OTHER POEMS 

XI. 

And as he wandered o'er the trackless wilds 
Unknown, unloved, an exile weak and worn. 
His guilty voice bewailed his utmost woe: 
"Owoeisme! I cannot bear my grief , 
For men shall hound me with the taunt of guilt, 
Jibing the while, 'Cain, where is thy brother?' 
If God had said to me, 'Thou shalt not kill,' 
Ah then would I have known the sin of it 
And staid my hand; but in that awful hour 
No voice was heard, not even the inward voice 
That since has cried aloud and haunts me still. 
Yet henceforth, I shall live in awe of Him 
Who drove me hence in mercy. 0, I know 
That my deserts demanded blood for blood. 
With pangs of Adam's sin within me born, 
I can't forget the deed that brought me here; 
But I shall put the past beneath my feet, 
And turn my sin-marked face unto the Lord." 



i8 CAIN 



XII. 



And as the thought, half uttered, died away 
An echo from the spirit seemed to say : 
"Lo, in thy lack of strength, thou hast mine own 
To guide thy faltering feet o'er ways unknown, 
Till thou shalt find the destined land of Nod 
The altar-stair that leads thee up to God!" 



AND OTHER POEMS ig 

A FLUTE DREAM. 



/^ ALM in the ember-glow, 
\j/ When a day of care is done, 

When the howling night-winds blow 
And scatter the flakes of the driven snow. 
Faintly the flute-notes, one by one. 
Chase each other along the scale; 
Singing at first of loves that last. 
Then from the keys they scamper and leap. 
And startle the player, half asleep, 
— He remembers, and vainly tries to weep, - 
For the notes break into a sad, sad wail, 
Of the hopes that lived and died in the past. 

II. 

Light as a fairy's feet, 

Unbidden a dream intrudes, 

A man's ideal pure and sweet, 

A vision of happiness, all complete, 

Shines through the barren solitudes. 

And the lapse of years seems but a span. 

Since guileless youth and true-love's art 

Made life seem one great holiday, 

And scattered garlands in his way. 

For over his heart love held full sway. 

A man is never the more a man. 

Than when Love sits victor over his heart. 



CAIN 



III. 



Shimmering shadows play- 
Like ghosts in the haunted gloom, 
While the music fades away, 
And echoes a sigh or a love-lorn lay. 
Then through the glimmer of his room, 
He sees a face in a gilded frame, 
Faded somewhat, but passing fair. 
Fixing upon him her soft blue eyes. 
Lost in dream as the firelight dies. 
Deep in his soul a still voice cries. 
So breathing softly he speaks her name. 
And breaks the spell of his heart's despair. 



IV. 



Back to the flute keys then 
Flew his fingers swift and strong. 
And the notes swelled forth again. 
Breaking the calm like a grand "Amen." 
Sweetly they sang love's own sweet song. 
The triumph of love, a conquest of heart. 
Then the gloom of his soul was lit with a gleam 
That came from the shores of the Long Ago. 
It brought back joys he used to know. 
That blent with the music soft and low. 
**Love," cried the notes, "eternal thou art, 
A man is a man, though he fondly dream." 



AND OTHER POEMS 2i 



Faint in the dying night, 

As the notes leaped past control, 

A figure in radiant white 

Stood in the uncertain light, 

And motionless there, peered into his soul. 

**Ah thou art with me," the wild notes cried. 

As they swept the scale in varying keys. 

Then the vision faded as it came. 

Leaving the gloom of the room the same. 

But as it vanished she spoke his name. 

And the last faint trill ef the flute notes died. 

**A dream," he said, "but my heart's at ease." 



CAIN 

ONE W^ORD. 

CfVy Y love and I were strolling by 
3 XX A field of ripened grain. 
She plucked an ear and stripped it bare, 
And digged the earth with tender care. 
And sowed the seed again. 

Another day we passed that way 

When winter's snows were done; 
And lo, the spot, almost forgot. 
Where seed v/ere sown and heeded not, 
Glowed with verdure in the sun! 

My love and I were passing by 
Some children at their play. 
They fussed and fought, nor little thought. 
The mischief they conceived and wrought. 
—She spoke a word and went her way.— 

She spoke a word, one simple word, 

But oh what meaning it contained! 
The kindness wrought, although unsought. 
Sprang into beauty in their thought. 
We journeyed on, the word remained. 

Another day we passed that way. 

And lo, what wonder met our eyes! 
The children then had grown to men 
And they were sowing seed again. 
Seed not of earth, but paradise! 



AND OTHER POEMS 23 

THY STAR. 

Wjf S there a star you fix your hope upon 
Jjl And watch intently till thy visage change 
^— ^ Itself into a perfect counterpart 
Of its siderial lustre? Lo, the change 
Is not a wonder; and some baser soul 
May gaze at thee as thou dost at the star, 
And silent as the passing of the years. 
His hopes shall be thine own, and all he knows 
Is laid on high Ambition's altar fire. 
The incence rises to thine Unknown Strength, 
And through the purple smoke he sees afar 
The glory of thy face and of thy star! 

Thus through the ages a divinity 

Has been abroad upon the earth, and steals 

Into the heart and life of him who toils 

And bends his powers to climb above the graves 

Of those who closed their eyes to things sublime 

Or sought an easy path to fields of peace. 

Shall he who spurned the sledge's artful power 

To crumble every stumbling stone to dust, 

Ascend the Horeb of Chivalrous deeds? 

Who falters at the mole-hill in the sand. 

If he look toward the snow-line on the mount, 

Will miss the trifles lying at his feet. 

For great it is to strive, but greater still 

It is to overcome, for that is glory. 



CAIN 

Is there a shape within thy secret heart. 
Whose image follows thee in all thy ways? 
Adore it then, for man is just as great 
As his ideal. The years shall make thy face 
To radiate the light of thine adored. 
High-seated reigns the god of our ideals, 
Whose feet we soar and touch unless we fall 
O'er our own earth-bound clay-banks in the way. 



AND OTHER POEMS 2$ 

HAS ANY NOBLE DEED BEEN 
WROUGHT? 

HAS any noble deed been wrought 
This day, or kind word spoken 
That blossomed into noble thought 
Where hope had fled and faith was broken? 

The day is done, but not its deeds. 
Our hopes, our joys, our sorrows. 
Are sown Hke seeds among the weeds, 
And bear their fruitage on the morrow. 

What of the harvest, O my soul? 

The fondest hopes we cherish 

May prosper as the seasons roll. 

And then may sink in shame and perish! 

O head thou must not doubt the heart! 
For every kindness given 
May lose on earth its better part. 
But shall be made complete in heaven. 

The silent Judge who aits enthroned 
In majesty supernal. 
Has for our petty faults atoned. 
And made the good we do, eternal. 

May this last thought fore'er abide, 
The same sweet, sacred story! 
For God has drawn the veil aside. 
And I have seen Him in his glory. 



26 CAIN 

STRENGTH OUT OF WEAKNESS. 

HEN I was young, my heart was old, 
And shadows aye prevailed. 
The world I saw was dull and cold, 
I did not sing but wailed: 

"Among the clamoring crowd I stand 

A wanderer weak and worn. 
The loveliest idol's feigning hand 

My locks of power has shown. 

**I, in my weakness, cry aloud. 

Yea, to strong men I cry; 
But they, in mingling with the crowd, 

Become as weak as I. 

"A common weakness then, said I, 

Must this whole crowd infest; 
And is there none who do not cry. 

And none supremely blest?" 

Just then I heard a troubled shriek, 

A faint and heart-sick sigh, — 
**0 brother, help a brother weak. 

Thou art more strong than I!" 



AND OTHER POEMS 

A trembling hand I reached to aid 
The weakling of the throng. 

The clamor that the crowd had made 
Was changed iiito a song. 

For there the weak gave mutual aid, 
And thus we all grew strong! 



2S CAIN 

SECLUSION. 



^ 



WAY from the heat of the city street, 
And the sound of hoof and wheel! 
With a roof of trees and gentle breeze, 
There let me live the thoughts I feel. 



In a lone alcove of sweet-scented grove. 

With shadows deeply cast; 
There is room to think and fondly drink 

Deeply the cup of a dear, dead past. 

There from the throne of the great Unknown 

Come whispers through the sod. 
'Neath straggling vine and eglantine, 

I breathe in the breath of God! 



AND OTHER POEMS zg 

WHENTHEWILD CRAB APPLES BLOW. 
I. 

©THE rarest and the fairest of the balmy youth- 
ful days. 
As in the twilight fondly straying 'mid the 
pleasantest of ways, 
With a coy and modest maiden, the evening hours fly by, 
Like a cloud before the zephyrs blow across the evening 

sky. 
I say the sweetest and the fleetest time that youthful 

heart can know. 
Is when the blush is on the maiden and the wild crab 
apples blow. 

II. 

When we stroll among the budding flowers, and breathe 

their sweet perfume. 
Our childish hopes like blossoms grow, and bursting 

into bloom, 
Scatter the sweetest fragrance o'er the dear departed 

years, 
And twine around our memories a wreath of smiles and 

tears. 
The pendulum that measures youth swings swiftly to 

and fro, 
When the blush is on the maiden and the wild crab 

apples blow. 



30 CAIISf 

III. 

I fain would have the beauties live, that filled our souls 

when young, 
And through the varied scenes a-gone, so lovingly have 

clung 
Around her tender heart and mine, like bands of beaten 

gold, 
When everything in natute round, except our love, 

grew old. 
Again I long for days of joy, like those I used to know. 
For the blush is on the maiden and the wild crab apples 

blow. 



AND OTHER POEMS 31 

SONG OF AUTUMN. 

ry PRING weaves a carpet glossy green, as soft as 
^^^ eider down. 

On every hillock far and near, she lays a 
flowery crown. 
She cheers the heart and cools the brow with a per- 
fume-laden breeze, 
And puts new songs in the birdies' throats in all the 

forest trees. 
But the days are far more cheery and the richest joys 

begin, 
When the frost has nipped the blossoms and the corn is 
gathered in. 

Summer sees the ripened wheatfields like a vanquished 

army fall. 
Hears the nestlings chirp and twitter; hears the Bob 

White's lusty call; 
Hears the lazy hum and mumble of the lazy bugs and 

bees; 
Sees the brown grass-hopper leap in dusty roads and 

close-cut leas. 
In the choking heat of summer how we long for air 

that's thin! 
When the frost has nipped the blossoms and the corn is 

gathered in. 



32 



CAIN 



The king of all the seasons four thus claims ourloude&t 

praise, 
For he fulfills the promises of Spring's most glowing 

days. 
He makes the Summer's fruitage sweet, he sees it in 

the store. 
With many a gladsome whoop and shout, with many a 

wild uproar; 
And we hear the glad Thanksgiving song ring out 

above the din. 
When the frost has nipped the blossoms and the corn is 

gathered in. 



AND OTHER POEMS 33 

WAVING GOLDENROD. 
I. 

g^^HEN the maple leaves are crimson, 
^^^^ And the ground is covered o'er 

With a vari-colored carpet, 
Like an oriental floor; 
And the smoky haze of Autumn 
Hangs about the distant hills; 
And the lonesome murmurs echo 
Mournfully from all the rills; 
Then in every field and valley, 
A thousand gay plumes nod. 
And glitter in the pale sunlight. 
The waving goldenrod. 

II. 

All the flowers that Summer cherished, 

Long ago have passed away; 

And their beauty and their perfume. 

Like a dream of yesterday 

Faintly linger on in sadness 

In our clouded memory. 

No flower wastes its vestal sweetness 

However unseen it be. 

But the gloomy days are brighter 

When the last son of the sod 

Rears his head on every summit,— 

Waving goldenrod. 



34 CAIN 

III. 

Autumn breezes, silent hoarfrost, 
Shatter down a million leaves. 
Soon the spears of crystal clearness 
Will be hanging from the eaves. 
Now the fruitage and the harvest 
In the swelling garners lie; 
And the fields are sad and lonesome. 
And the valleys dead and dry; 
But the angel of the blossoms 
Sweeping o'er the hills of God, 
Left the glowing, monumental. 
Waving goldenrod. 

IV. 

How like the last bright prospect 

Of a life that's nearly spent, 

Waves this sentinel of winter 

By its breezes idly bent! 

Beckon on, thou last of brilliants, 

Wave thy banner to and fro ! 

When the shortening day grows darker, 

Let thy beauty grow and grow. 

Like a great thought lead us onward 

In the path that must be trod. 

We shall see thy glow in Heaven, 

Waving goldenrod. 



^ 



AND OTHER POEMS SS 

TOKEN or FIRST LOVE. 



FTER a day of toil and care 

When strength and spirit sink, 
give me a place in the old arm chair! 
There let me sit and think. 



II. 



Think of the days that used to be 

When love and hope ran high; 
And the blue of the sky and the blue of the sea 

Met in the hue of her eye. 



III. 



How in the prime of childhood's time, 

Over the fields we strayed; — 
they ravish my heart those songs sublime, 

She sang as we dreamed and played. 



36 CAIN 

IV. 

Wild flowers we plucked as hand in hand, 

We strolled along the brink 
Of that cool stream in the border land 

'Twixt Dream and Truth, I think. 



We whiled away the twilight hour 

In meadow, field or heather. 
And sometimes each would pick a flower 

And twine their stems together. 



VI. 

We'd pitch them high into the air 
To see if they would sever. 

If not, the prophecy was fair, 
And we would love forever. 



AND OTHER POEMS 37 

vn. 



A childish heart that asks a sign 

To prove if love be true: 
Yet through the years I see them twine. 

Those simple violets blue. 



VIII. 

I have faith in honest flowers 

And love the azure hue 
That lends its grace to lonely hours, 

But hearts are not so true! 



IX. 



And yet, somehow, somewhere I trust 
That hearts and flowers anew 

Shall bloom again from out the dust, 
And I shall find her true. 



CAIN 
TO A ROSEBUD. 



WEET tiny rosebud, plucked from her bosom, 
You bring me fragrance that she loved so well! 
O pretty rosebud, queen of the garden, 
Come gentle spirit, her heart throbbings tell! 



In the soft moonlight checkered with shadows. 
You gleamed with a lustre surpassingly fair. 
You rose and fell with the swell of her breathing, 
While thy gay companion was lost in her hair. 



Sweet is thy fragrance, charming thy perfume 
That rises from her gentle bosom too. 
Now 'tis a question, I know not whether 
You perfumed her bosom, or it perfumed you! 



AND OTHER POEMS jg 

SING TO ME. 



/jT OME sing to me tonight my dear, 
\^ While the clouds are dropping rain. 

I'm sad and lone, and fain would hear 

Thy sweet voice once again. 

In days of yore it gently bore 

Me on the wings of love. 

And every strain and sweet refrain 

Seemed whispered from above. 



Fair angel of my dreams art thou 

And guardian of my sleep. 

Though distance separate us now 

One pledge for thee I keep: 

Though winds may blow the rain and snow 

And the night be dark and chill, 

I'd never mind the cruel wind, 

If thou wert with me still. 



CAIN 

reverie:. 



OMETIMES, dear heart, I see a gleam 
Of some far-off thing in the blue; 
And as I sit alone and dream 
I wonder if you're looking too. 
Because I think you are, my dear. 
The glow sinks deep into my heart, 
And places distant seem as near,— 
Then let the vision not depart. 



IL 



Up to the star my message springs. 
And from the star again to you. 
Out of the Silence something sings. 
And this its burden, **She is true!" 
Then let me sit and dream away 
The quiet summer evening long, 
And wake to know at break of day, 
That you, dear heart, inspired the song. 



AND OTHER POEMS 
ENIGMA. 



m 



Y thought, my pen, I can't control, 
For they have long since mastered me. 
Even now they hold my soul 
In bondage.— Sweet captivity! 



I battled long with secret powers; 

Contested blindly, fear unknown. 
I breathed the fragrance of the flowers 

Sometimes, by love, to victors thrown. 



I battle yet; but I am slain 
By far more often than I slay. 

Beside me are my foemen lain 
And yet am I less strong than they! 



CAIN 
SPEAli TO ME LOVE. 



PEAK to me, Love, as the mom's first ray 
Clothes the East in a mantle of gold. 
Ere the first wild throat hath sung in the day, 
Or his paeon of love hath told. 



Speak, when the loitering noontide steals 
O'er the land like a breath from the sea. 

For I sometimes think thy heart conceals 
What ought to be told to me. 



Speak when the lingering twilight dies, 
And the shadows are hazy and long; 

When the notes of the lute in ecstasy rise. 
And the evening is filled with song. 



AND OTHER POEMS 43 

Speak to me, Love, at th e midnight hour. 
When the owlets are screaming on high; 

And the moon-beams peep through your latticed bower. 
With the stars keeping watch in the sky. 



Speak to me, then, the magical word. 
Like a treasure that word shall I seek, 

For the angels in heaven alone have heard 
What is sweeter, then Love, O speak ! 



44 CAIN 

TO A HARP. 



T 



HY strings by a woman's hands were tuned 
To vibrate for her pleasure. 
The evenings long were filled with song, 
And her joy was beyond measure. 



What a world of melody there falls 
From wires so small and slender! 

To twilight skies thy murmurs rise 
And echo back in accents tender. 



Sometimes I hear a plaintive note 
Akin to grief and sorrow, 

E'en from that strain of sorest pain 
A bit of joy I borrow. 



A woman tuned my harp of heart 

To vibrate for her pleasure; 
Our evenings still the old thoughts fill 

With tune and discord— equal measure. 



AND OTHER POEMS 45 

A MEMORY. 



©FT I turn the sacred pages 
Of a volume that is mine, 
And my eyes in rapture linger 
On a picture most divine. 
When around the old, white school house, 

At the games we loved so well. 
Played the gay and happy children. 
Before the teacher rang the bell. 



II. 



Favorites had each lad and lassie 

In those days of tender youth; 
And the hours were full of sunshine, 

Full of love and child-like truth. 
There was gladness on the playground. 

Laughter sounded in the dell ; 
But our noisy shouts grew silent 

When the teacher rang the bell. 



CAIN 
III. 



All the day the kind reproving 

Made obedience the rule, 
For the children loved the master, 

And the master loved the school. 
His smile was like the sunshine, 

And made the wee heart swell 
With a real sense of pleasure. 

When the teacher rang the bell. 



IV. 



But there came a time of shadows, 

When my little sweetheart died; 
For in childhood we had frolicked. 

And together laughed or cried. 
Now the day was sad and lonely, 

And the clapper seemed to tell 
Far and wide the sad, sad story, 

When the teacher rang the bell. 



AND OTHER POEMS 47 

V. 



Since years have passed and I have seen 

Again the same old places. 
There is a void I'd like to fill,— 

Those happy smiling faces! 
Yet of all the thoughts of youth and age, 

My memory loves to dwell 
On the glad, sad time of childhood, 

When the teacher rang the bell. 



VI. 



Thus on the great school-yard of life, 

Assembled for a day. 
Men frolic like we children did, 

And oft fall out at play; 
But we shall pass with smiles and tears. 

When sounds the mournful knell. 
As from the old school playground. 

When the teacher rang the bell. 



48 CAIN 

ROSALIE. 



Jk SLEEP in the arms of the calm summer night, 
^*CV Lies dreaming my beauty ,the fair Rosalie! 
^-^ Through clefts in the clouds falls the tremulous 
light, 
And leaps into splendor in dew-drop and tree. 



One time in childhood when tired out with play, 
I found her asleep with hair flecked with dew. 

I stealthily stole to the tuft where she lay, 
Half- fearfully whispered, **I love but you." 



hasten to waken, my beautiful rose! 

For morning and meadow and mountain and stream, 
Each musical throat the wild-wood knows. 

Bid you awaken and tell me your dream! 



AND OTHER POEMS ^ 

ONE NIGHT. 



q^'YYAS ®v®^ ^ rosebud half so fair 
^^^ As the one my Laura wore in her hair? 
It glowed in her locks of midnight jet, 
And shined as a diamond, ebony set, 
As she moved about in the dazzling light. 
Where music was filling the air,— one night. 



Was ever a face so glad and gay? 

It bloomed as the lilac bushes in May. 

Her cheeks wore the blush of a new-born rose. 

Fair as an unopened bud was her nose. 

Her dark heavy eyebrows softened the light 

That danced from her beautiful eyes; one night? 



so 



CAIN 



A loveliness dwelt on her happy brow, 

A phantom-like loveliness, I see it now 

Float through the shadows, uncertain and gray, 

Emerging like Phoebus at break of day. 

Was ever a countenance half so bright 

As my beautiful Laura's was one night? 



No more shall I sing of her blushes fair, 
And the midnight hue of her wavy hair. 
Her brow is not lovely; her ill-shaped nose 
Does not and cannot resemble the rose. 
For there in the glare of the dazzling light 
She loved and accepted my rival,— one night! 



AND OTHER POEMS 57 

1 KNEW NOT HER NAME. 



Cff HAD not met her nor known her name, 

^3i For late she had come to town; 

^— ^ But the old, old story is just the same. 

Whether beggar or prince of high renown. 
We affect no heed to a careless glance, 

Whether masculine smile or feminine frown; 
But life's heart throbs at a countenance 
Reflecting the light of your own true flame. 



There she sat in the window seat. 

With her pretty round chin in her hand. 
She knew not I saw her, unconciously sweet. 

Therefore beautiful, you understand. 
The tint of the cloud and the blue of the sky. 

Blent till they seemed the same. 
Colored her cheek and lighted her eye; 

But I knew not her name. 



S2 



CAIN 



What difference? I asked. My heart would sing: 

"Love is eternal and needs no return!" 
God has breathed beauty into everything, 

The more our souls see it, the more for it yearn. 
My heart went out to the maiden up there. 

But never her heart could I claim. 
I did not tell her, although she was fair, 

For I knew not her name. 



I look on the mountain, the lake and the shore, 

And the sun as he sleeps in the sea. 
And I love them all. Could I love them more. 

If I knew that they loved me? 
There as she sat in the last glow of day, 

Unconcious of my praise or blame, 
In the large light of love, what difference I say. 

That I knew not her name? 



m 



AND OTHER POEMS $3 

A FADED VIOLET. 



HAT have we here? A faded violet 

Confined between these pages long ago. 
For this intrusion, beg your pardon, yet 
You have a secret I would like to know. 



Perchance when first you peeped above the sod. 
And caught the color from the azure sky. 

You bowed your head in reverence to God, 
And did not dream that you were born to die. 



And then some love-lorn maiden saw you there, 
A boon companion for her solitude. 

And twined you in the ringlets of her hair, — 
And did you share her melancholy mood? 



S4 



CAIN 



Before Love's sacrifice upon the ground, 
She knelt a reverential worshipper; 

The shrine she long had sought was surely found, 
How sweet it was of you to die for her! 



To die? Ah no! it is not yours to die; 

For when you breathed your fragrance on the air, 
'Twas borne to heaven on a maiden's sigh. 

And blooms into eternal sweetness there. 



So may my life grow sweeter after death, 
With all its ills forgotten. May the good 

Still be transmitted, like the violet's breath. 
Till Change shall bring us into brotherhood. 



AND OTHER POEMS 55 

SMILE. 



HEN the deepening shadows steal 
O'er the soul and make it feel 
A poor and weakened victim of its guile, 
In this blackness worse than night, 
Heaven sends a little light 
With a smile. 



If the sunshine peeping through 
Silver clouds fall not on you 

To cheer you with its radiance awhile, 
Ere the fleeting vision dies, 
Draw the sunshine from the skies 

With a smile. 



Every flower blooms to bless, 
To shed its rays of happiness 

Where anxious cares and longings would defile; 
Every discord is a tune. 
Night, the other end of noon, 

If we smile! 



« 



CAIN 
IN TUNE. 



OW mournfully the bells are pealing 

In tones of sadness over hill and shore ! 
The music like a shadow stealing. 
Falls on my heart, and falling, sounds no 
more. 



O how the autumn winds are sighing! 

They weep the sad declining of the year. 
The leaves, like youthful hopes, are flying. 

In minor keys are all the songs I hear. 



The wind as it moans on the mountain. 
The lonesome plash of the dark warterfall, 

The peal of the bells, the drip of the fountain, 
My heart, my heart, is in tune with it all! 



N 



AND OTHER POEMS S7 

'NOW I LAT ME," 



OW I lay me down to sleep*' 

I overheard her saying. 
She, kneeling there in the moonlight glare 
By her bed, was softly praying. 



If such a little child as this 
Needs prayer in life's beginning, 

If yet I may, how shall I pray, 
Who am so old in sinning? 



So then may I though poor and vile 
From love and mercy straying, 

His guidance seek in manner meek. 
Like the little child a-praying. 



S8 CAIN 

DECLINING YEAR. 



jri ECLINING year, what hast thou left for me? 

2^1 What promises have been fulfilled in thee? 

What cherished hopes, what long suspended joys, 
What childish fancies, like to children's toys, 
Long wished for, but when won their glory dies, 
And one day only, lasts the glad surprise? 
Yet in the splendor of thy closing days, 
Let all the earth break forth in greatf ul praise, 
Not for what thou seemest, but what thou art; 
For man, not thou, has left undone his part. 



AND OTHER POEMS £9 

TWO MYSTERIES. 



HAT beauty in a poplar leaf 

When kissed by Autumn's breath! 
In colors bold, of red and gold, 
It clothes itself for death. 



Each pretty leaf I gaze upon. 
By breezes tossed and twirled, 

So much conceals, but yet reveals 
A universe and a world! 



If thus dame Nature fondly keeps 

Her secrets hid and whole. 
With eyes set low, how shall we know 

The beauties in the soul? 



6o CAIN 

THE TEMPEST, 



gi HEARD the tempest rumbling on the deep, 
jjl And saw the billows dashed upon the shore, 
^-^ And thunder-heads that leaped from steep to 

steep. 
Amid the clamor and the awful roar 
Of Nature's gunning. How the lightning flashed 
And played among the clouds at eventide! 
And Heaven's giants with their broad-swords clashed, 
Until the mountains, stern as Atlas, sighed. 



The winds grew still, the thunder ceased to roll, 
And quiet fell as softly as the night. 
The waters murmured on the pebbly shoal, 
As fast the billows vanished out of sight. 
Out came the moon and gazed the landscape o'er, 
As in mid-air she reared her splendid form. 
More charming night was never seen before, — 
The calm of calms, to drive away a storm! 



AND OTHER POEMS 6t 

But fiercer yet, the storm that o'er my soul 
Swept with its harrowing gusts and fitful sighs. 
My heart heard groans of dissapointment roll 
And echo back the sadness from the skies. 
But then Love's sunshine lent a little ray 
Of beauty, but of tenderness the more. 
My soul has known no sweeter, clearer day 
Than that which heard the tempest cease to roar. 



62 CAIN 

THE SLEEPING GUARDS. 



^'Y E keepers of the gates, ye sentinels, 
^y That guard the city from a thousand ills, 

Awake, awake, and hear my warning cry! 
Within thy walls thy fiercest foeman dwells. 



Within the city, lapped in slumber deep. 
They trust the nightly vigils that you keep. 
Yea, put their very lives into your trust, — 
I find you here, ye faithless, fast asleep! 



And now the clouds, instead of starlit skies. 
Hang over you, and still your leaden eyes 
See not the fury of the approaching storm, 
Nor heed the mixing of its murky dyes! 



AND OTHER POEMS 63 

Nearer still the ravenous billows roll, 
And leap, like frightened steeds beyond control; 
They surge and leap and in their maddened charge, 
Dash to pieces on the rocky shoal. 



To all the threatening signs ye pay no heed, 
Nor do you rise to meet the storm; indeed. 
More motionless and dead than e'er before. - 
that men could a word of warning read! 



And thus it was, the keeper and the kept. 
With careless unconcern so soundly slept, 
That, silent as the falling of the night. 
The evil that they feared upon them crept. 



64 CAIN 

CONTRITION— A PRAYER. 



® 



LORD, my poor petition hear, 
For thine extended grace; 
And from the trembling child of fear, 
Hide not a smiling face. 



Too long mine eyes have sought the ground, 

Now to be turned to thee; 
But thou hast said where sins abound, 

Thy grace shall be more free. 



Too long my wayward feet have trod 

Along forbidden ways. 
guide them in the paths of God, 

And teach my lips his praise. 



AND OTHER POEMS '6$ 



vile and sinful that I am! 
So high and holy thou, 

1 need the faith of Abraham, 
To slay my Isaac now. 



Lord, I believe that thou art just 

And merciful to man; 
Then take the remnant of my dust, 

And mold it to thy plan. 



Then all my selfishness and pride 
.Consumed by love shall be; 

And I shall enter glorified, 
Into the courts with thee. 



66 CAIN 

THE, GUIDING STAR. 



3 



SUBMIT me to my fate 

And as thy will is, so be mine; 

For future years shall compensate 

The petty hopes I now resign. 



Nor pining, shall I still pursue 
The rugged way that leads me on 

To hardship sore and conflict new, 
Since none will miss me when I'm gone. 



My tears would start,— but what are they 
If no glad triumph come thereby? 

How great the darkness if the day 
Drive not the night-fiends from the sky! 



AND OTHER POEMS 67 

A lonely star obscured by tears, 

Shines dimly in a distant sky. 
It glowed along my path in years, 

When to advance seemed but to die. 



Then ever on, faltering feet! 

Retreat disdain, straight paths resume. 
In realms of light thine eyes shall meet 

The star that led thee through the gloom. 



6^ CAIN 

DAWN. 



THE dawn, the glorious dawn! 
Spreads its splendor o'er field and lawn. 
Adown the glades in semi-shades, 
The dew-dipped grass, like sabre blades, 
Stands in bright array. 
Waken then, ye drowsy sleeper, 
Of the ozone drink the deeper. 
See the world on dress parade. 
For dawn's the best that God has made! 
Emblem of my wild ambition, 
Haste, 0, haste its glad fruition. 
And in upright bold position. 
Let me face each dawning day. 
Glad because the sun is shining. 
Not despairing, not repining. 
And a loving ear inclining 
For the voice that always sings. 
At dawn divinely near it, 
A single note heard would endear it, 
An anthem -only hear it,— 
Issues from the meanest things. 



AND OTHER POEMS 6g 

UNSELFISHNESS. 



er^^Y^Y "^^^ I pin® ^^^ days that are no more 
^^^^X And writhe, forlorn, in sore despondency, 

When all about me silent voices call, 
And airy fingers beckon me to rise 
To heights above the grisly multitude? 
For like unrestling waves by ocean tossed, 
Jostles the noisy crowd in malcontent. 
In blindness, rage and seething misery, 
The peoples fling themselves, and then decay 
Like flowers before a parching, desert wind. 
I hear the groans, the unconscious grief. 
Of humanity degenerate and vile. 
I see her stricken by the pangs of pain, 
A social unrest never cured by prayer 
Alone, nor charmed to quiet by the arts 
Of Augury or Magic. When I wake, 
And hear the living groans of men that die 
The ignoble death of slaves; and are forgot 
Before the clouds have ceased to sound their knell, 
—The only knell for such as die like this,— 
I long to rise above the pain-sick throng 
Only to lift my fellows from the dust! 



JO CAIN 

THE, MIDNIGHT SONG. 



gjf T was midnight. A vagrant strain of song 
3L Came trilling through the stillness dark and deep, 
^^ And lingered on in rapturing cadence long. 
I can't repeat it now, for half -asleep, 
I lay there dreaming the dull night away. 
It sounded weird and tremulous like notes 
Of birds that cannot wait until the day 
To sing their hearts out through their little throats. 
So on my spirit falls a voice sometimes. 
That seems an echo from a distant shore. 
I listen to the music of its rhymes. 
To hear it all, lest it shall sound no more; 
But when I try to write what I have heard, 
I find the spirit there, but not the word. 



^ 



AND OTHER POEMS 77 

JOHN HAY. 



EHOLD him who was great and is no more ! 
The man of peace has laid his treaties by, 
And turned his eyes toward the peaceful shore, 
To enter the republic of the sky. 



Patient, serene, amid the storms of fate. 
Our pilot stood nor feared the threatening blast. 

His right hand ruled the rigid helm of state. 
His left upheld her standard, firm and fast. 



His eye was ever set beyond the gloom. 
Where mists had melted into perfect day. 

No narrow aim nor selfish act found room 
In that clear eye, where duty showed the way. 



7^ CAIN 

No more forever shall he hear the roar 
Of angry guns, nor see the battle throng. 

No more for him the bird of war will soar; 
No more the bugle-call, the victor's song. 



No more on troubled sea his bark is seen; 

No more at sight of him the lands rejoice; 
No more the weak on him for succor lean; 

No more they throng to hear his god-like voice! 



The breathing night- winds bear him on their breath; 

The rain-clouds cast a pall on every hill; 
The babbling brooks now softly murmurs "Death," 

All that has voice mourns him whose voice is still. 



AND OTHER POEMS Tj 

He too, knew how to strike the tuneful lyre. 
And bid the hostile lands from conflict cease. 

The message lit the earth like holy fire 
That blazes from the altar-stones of peace. 



A leader thou, whose eye was ever bright, 
A hand reached through the ages guiding thine; 

And through the gloom of each succeeding night. 
It held a torch whose lustre was divine. 



But why recite our woe since thou art gone 
To peace infinite. Heaven's own reward? 

But rather pray that He who led thee on. 
Shall lead us up to thee and to thy Lord. 



7^ CAIN 

ENDURE IT ALL. 



®WILT thou leave me all alone 
In a night so dark and cold? 
The wild winds rage and crash and moan, 
The tree-tops sway and creak and groan, 
And I am out of the fold! 



Pray lead me to yon kindly light 
That gleams from a far-off tower. 
My eyes are dim with tears tonight. 
Queer phantoms lure and sounds affright. 
And the murky storm-clouds lower. 



AND OTHER POEMS fS 



I wept and wailed my sad heart sore, 
Nor came there a helping hand. 
So I bade my spirit weep no more; 
But wait till the storm and night be o'er, 
And sunshine kiss the land. 



Then came a sweet voice to my ear. 
Like a mellow bugle-call: 
**It does not calm the night,— this fear— 
Nor check a single burning tear, 
So be thyself; endure it all!" 



l6 CAIN 

BRUSH THE COBWEBS FROM THE 
PORTRAITS. 



B 



RUSH the cobwebs from the portrait; 
Draw the sombre veil aside! 
Shall the dead go unremembered, 
Shall the dust their faces hide? 



Ah, that's better. How the life-glow 
Flushed his cheek and lit his eye! 

Men are born to be immortal, 
Not to breathe and toil and die. 



Here a line of gloom and sadness 
Marks his brow where it doth run. 

There a line of noble triumph, — 
Lo they meet and blend as one? 



Tell me. Sage of time forgotten. 
Is each joy so joined with strife? 

Does each triumph bring its failure, 
And is Death so joined with Life? 



AND OTHER POEMS 77 



As a gleam falls on the portrait 
From the crimson, twilight shore, 

Faint and sweet the answer cometh: 
"Hear ye this and ask no more. 



"Death is for the dead and dying, 
Life for him who hath it still ! 

Death is but the end of service, 
Life, a working of the Will." 



Then brush the cobwebs from the portraits; 

Draw their sombre veils aside. 
Let the dead be aye remembered, 

For they in life with thee abide! 



f8 CAIN 

A PALACE. 



SING of a ruined palace, 

Of a broken and crumbling wall; 
The wild ivy grows on the old porticoes, 
Over battlement, turret and all. 



Such glittering, flashing splendor 

As these corridors used to know! 
When the court music played and the gay dancers swayed 

In the days of the sweet long ago. 



But time has crumbled the portals 

And wasted the columns of stone; 
There's no whirling quadrille, and the music is still. 

And the ruin stands haunted and lone. 



AND OTHER POEMS 79 

Yet will I sing of a palace— 

A palace of perishing art, — 
Where the light fades away and the black shadows stay 

Like a vision of death, on my heart. 



Splendor is short-lifed and fleeting. 
And glory, a word for decay. 

Of the palace ideal, the thing that is real 
Is but a wretched cabin of clay ! 



8o CAIN 

IGNIS FATUUS. 



A T early morn I gazed into the East, 
J^^ And bade my soul on Nature's beauties feast; 
^-^ But as I watched the snow-white mist-banks rise, 
They vanished into commonplacest skies. 



I heard a song ring out at break of day, 
It seemed as if 'twould bear my soul away; 
But when I paused to admire the beauteous strain, 
It ceased, and nevermore was heard again. 



I fixed my gaze upon a lovely star. 
More beautiful than those about it,— far; 
But while mine eyes drank in its gorgeous light, 
It glowed an instant, then was lost from sight. 



Through many a weary year in varied light, 
I sought my dearest idol, day and night; 
But when my raptured eyes its form had seen. 
The fleeting phantom cried, "Unclean, Unclean!" 



® 



AND OTHER POEMS 8i 

THE LIFE or ART. 



TO be one of the immortal few 

Who sing their songs from the heart! 
And live in the realm of the good and true, 
Where love is the life of art! 



If Labor and Love should ever wed 
And cherish the offspring, Worth, 

The music of Eden,— long time dead,— 
Would rise and swell through the earth. 



A false chord was struck when chivalry drove 
The peasant away from his king, 

And made degredation the price of his love, 
—A song he could never sing. 



82 CAIN 

The clank of chains in the darkened cell; 

The moans of the maimed and halt; 
And the sad heart-pains, like wails from hell—, 

O, where is there aught to exalt? 



A million stars hath the skyless night 

Shining beyond the leaden vault. 
Our sorrows and woes, love makes them light! 

And there is much to exalt. 



Peasant and king shall be one at length 
When time wrecks a few systems more; 

And man shall measure his zeal by his strength, 
And all shall be well, as before. 



AND OTHER POEMS 83 

Then all shall be part of the erstwhile few 

Whose musical lyre is the heart, 
To live in the realm of the good and true, 

When Love is the life of art. 



^4 CAIN 

A SAD OLD MAN. 



3 



SEE him daily as I pass 
A-sitting in the sun, 
An old, old man with head bowed low, 
Whose sands are almost run. 



No tender hand to sooth his pain, 
No love to calm distress. 

Alone and sad, he lives beyond 
His days of usefulness. 



His life was never one to make 
The thoughts of age sublime; 

And now there's nothing he can do, 
But to abide his time. 



His friends? They vanished with his wealth. 

For they his wealth pursued. 
His children likewise left him then 

With base ingratitude. 



AND OTHER POEMS 8$ 



There is no poets' legacy, 

No holy heritage 
For meditation, to inspire 

And sweeten his old age. 



His past is like the ocean wild, 
O'erswept by stormy gales. 

On which his poor life, rudderless, 
Embarked with useless sails. 



And now he's drifting into port, 

As aimless as he sailed. 
There are no beacons on the shore, 

For all his lights have failed. 



S6 CAlISr 

There are no tender memories 
To gild his path with Hght. 

He's in the twilight of his days, 
And soon will come the night. 



O night of nights how dark 'twill be, 

His cheerless way to grope ! 
With no hand guiding through the gloom, 

No light, no love, no hope ! 



I sometimes think I'd rather die 
Before I reach the prime. 

And leave ideals unattained, 
Than live beyond my time. 



AND OTHER POEMS S7 

TO the: last mosquito. 



THOU wast not welcome once when thou didst 
bring 
A noisy host to revel on my brow ; 
But since they long ago have ceased to sing, 
I welcome thee with thy v/eird hummings now. 



The frosty nights have softened that shrill voice 
That sang so gleefully a month ago. 

There's time to grieve, and season to rejoice, 
And now is time for bitterness and woe. 



Didst thou return to say a last farewell 
To all the loved of those warm summer nights? 

And to repent perhaps, ah, who can tell? 
Welcome, thou shalt flit unharmed about my lights. 



88 CAIN' 

THE SEAMSTRESS AND THE DREAMER. 

(alliterative.) 



^ SEAMSTRESS seamed a seemly seam, 
(*^\ A silken seam seamed she. 

A drowsy dreamer dreamed a dream, 
Delightful dream dreamed he. 



A silken seam, a drowsy dream, 
Some soft and silent sighs; 

Love-light's glisten, glow and gleam. 
Leaped from their love-lit eyes. 



Then a seam, a sad, sad seam, 
As many a maid hath found, 

A seemly seamstress to a dream 
With iron threads hath bound. 



So now the dreamer dreameth dreams, 
Of his seamstress dreameth he, 

And still the seamstress seameth seams, 
For the food-bill payeth she!! 



LOFa 



SONNETS. 



AND OTHER POEMS gi 

TO 



gj FEED my hungry soul on thoughts of thee, 
Jjl And on the perfume of a lovely rose. 
^-^ I ope the petals of the flower to see 
The fount from which the rising fragrance flows. 
I read a story written in the bloom, 
An ancient story told of youth and love. 
That charms the soul alike in light and gloom, 
And lifts it toward the greater Soul above. 
This, said I, is indeed the fountain-head 
Of all the loveliness the rose doth show; 
And every perfume by the zephyrs spread, 
Is but the breath of God; then let it grow! 
Sometime I hope to find the counterpart 
Of this rose-fountain in thy secret heart. 



g2 CAIN 

THE PYRAMID INDESTRUCTIBLE. 



©LD Egypt's pyramids have reared their forms 
For countless ages o'er the barren sands. 
Amid the ravages of time and storms 
Of centuries, has stood the work of hands, 
Long folded in the deep and silent sleep, — 
The last reward that comes alike to all. 
Although for aeons yet, the winds may sweep 
In vain, their hoary summits, they must fall. 
But character, the monumental pile 
Raised in adversity and daily strife, 
Stands high in majesty above the Nile 
That feeds its builders and renews their life; 
And when the Pyramids shall cease to be, 
'Twill heavenward point throughout eternity. 



AND OTHER POEMS gs 

RETURN. 



qpyvY native hills, how I have longed for thee, 
^XX As in strange lands, a stranger, I sojourned! 

How often for the stillness have I yearned, 
While roaming streets in cities dead to me. 
And seeing naught where there was much to see ! 
A spirit told me when my home-love burned, 
"When to thine own dear hills thy face hath turned, 
All thou hast lost shall then return to thee." 
But on the journey that my life must go 
Not erring feet alone that lose the way, 
For inward impulse purges or defiles. 
And sets its mark for earthly joy or woe. 
'Tis neither cloud nor sun that makes the day, 
But in thy thinking. Nature frowns or smiles. 



g4 CAIN 

AM I A PART? 



A, M I indeed a part of all I've met? 
^^/C So little of heaven, so much of earth below? 
^-^ And is the world so heartless to bestow 
Upon a single soul the fond regret 
For all its evils? Tell me, is there yet 
No balm in Gilead for grief to know? 
Shall anguish roll his Juggernaut of woe 
Over my very heart, nor I forget? 
Ah, look again! thou hast not seen aright. 
The world is not a harbor for distress. 
And life is more than wretchedness and blight; 
And from the gloom of each succeeding night, 
Into a vernal realm of happiness. 
Breaks morning forth with an eternal light. 



AND OTHER POEMS 95 

A WHISPER THROUGH THE GLOOM. 



THE storm-clouds scud across the darkened sky, 
The gloom hangs heavy over hill and vale; 
And distant thunder, like the muffled wail 
Of stricken hosts re-echos its own sigh, 
As flash on flash the snake-tongued arrows fly. 
And fall like fitful gusts of fiery hail; 
While wind and darkness on the earth prevail,— 
Her music hushed, her only note a cry! 
So with my soul. The light I used to know 
Has vanished from the earth and all is dark. 
And yet, I trust, behind the clouds a glow 
Is still alive to guide my stranded bark 
O'er ways unknown till all my wanderings cease. 
And from the gloom an echo whispers "Peace." 



g6 CAIN 

HOME. 



FAR, far beyond that mountain's hazy dome. 
In vale sequestered stands a palace cot; 
A palace, though crowned heads it shelters not, 
A haven for my wayward heart— it's Home! 
Ah! speak that word with reverence! Though I roam 
The ends of earth, whatever be my lot, 
I know full well that I am not forgot. 
And longing guards the portals 'till I come. 
There is a port beyond the distant sky. 
Whose beacons guide me o'er the angry foam 
And when my ships at heaven's anchor lie 
Methinks 'twill be so much like going home; 
That visions of the two before me rise, 
And oft I wonder which is Paradise. 



AND OTHER POEMS 97 

ASPIRATION. 



d^T LONG to climb the heights not reached before, 
^Jl And, Moses-hke, from multitudes depart, 
^-^ Where naught disturbs the quiet of the heart 
But wholesome longing still to rise and soar, 
And from the summit gaze the landscape o'er. 
With all its heartless traffic, exchange, mart, 
The life of gold, the death of love in art; 
And there perchance commune with bards of yore! 
Selfishness! Ah, No! Yet would I climb 
And carve with burning characters in stone 
The words of life. Then all who toil should see 
The flaming standard and the goal sublime. 
And hear the voice that speaks in tend'rest tone: 
"Arise, arise, the heights have need of thee!" 



fE3 IS 1908 



V 



